


A Proper Conversation

by Katie_Flint



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post!War, Rough Sex, Uncertain Feelings, avoiding discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Flint/pseuds/Katie_Flint
Summary: For all her good taste and common sense, Daphne can’t help the way her gaze falls upon him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I fell for this couple after I read a post about them on tumblr, and I couldn't resist the prompt for this week when I saw it was Charlie.

Astoria marries Draco Malfoy, which is all well and good, but it leaves her sister Daphne feeling rather isolated and alone. She’s felt like that a lot, ever since the war ended.  
  
Greengrasses have always been a respectable family, and Astoria’s decision to marry Draco is built upon that belief. Marrying a Malfoy is smart, disgraced as his family currently is, because they’re of old, noble stock. Daphne finds the union agreeable, despite it breaking her heart, and she can’t, in good conscious, ask her sister to remain with her forever.  
  
Astoria moves on, and eventually, so does Daphne.  
  
Bloodlines are important to a Greengrass. And Daphne’s no exception. She’s had the concept instilled in her too deeply, too early on, to disregard it now. And any man she shares her bed with should agree with, or at least exhibit, that breeding in their heritage. Preferably, they ought to also have a sizable bank account to accompany their genetically superior stature.  
  
For all her good taste and common sense however, Daphne can’t help the way her gaze falls upon _him_.  
  
Yes, he’s a blood traitor, and completely unacceptable by the unwritten customs of the old world, but they aren’t living in that world anymore.  
  
Charlie Weasley, Daphne tells herself over and over again, is still a pureblood. She quotes this to herself ad nauseum. As if, in this feeble attempt, she might alleviate the knot of guilt that pesters her in his presence; sending her heart fluttering against an unstable ribcage.  
  
He’s interested in her, for reasons Daphne can’t quite explain, and she plays on that interest _relentlessly_. She’s taken to pushing him against something to get him going, but once they get started, it’s Charlie who takes complete control of the situation. Much to Daphne’s pleasure.  
  
He’ll often push into her folds without warning, sliding her knickers to the side at a dizzying speed. He pistons into her at an equally alarming pace, and Daphne wonders how she doesn’t collapse under the friction of his attentions.  
  
_And his hands_ , Charlie is ever so good with his hands.  
  
Broad, and callused from days spent studying dragons in their native landscape, they press roughly against her skin; bruising her hips as he tightens his grip for a better reach inside her.  
  
While physically satisfying, the sex is a poor exchange for a proper conversation had between them. Daphne likes it rough, and he pleases her quite well, but she’s afraid of what a proper conversation might reveal about them, particularly herself. That perhaps the war has changed her, maybe for the better, because she certainly never would’ve fallen for a red-headed Weasley, even Charlie, before it. Or perhaps for the worse, though she can’t imagine life without Charlie.  
  
And she worries that the war’s changed Charlie as well. That maybe he’s not the shining knight he once was. That, somewhere deep inside himself, he’s with her because he no longer believes he deserves better.  
  
Her climax washes the thoughts away, momentarily.


End file.
